


Pretty Little Words

by agoodpersonrose



Series: The Cat Chronicles [2]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: 5+1 Things, Cat Ownership, David Rose is a Cat Person, Domestic Bliss, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Married Life, Post-Canon, References to Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28196667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoodpersonrose/pseuds/agoodpersonrose
Summary: Five times David thought Patrick was talking to him but he was actually talking to their cat, and one time it was the other way around.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: The Cat Chronicles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2065569
Comments: 28
Kudos: 151





	Pretty Little Words

**1.**

The first time Rose allows Patrick to stroke her properly is a Monday midday, only a few weeks after her adoption. David is resting in bed, still half asleep as they give themselves the treat of a lie in on a day the store is closed.

He’s curled up against the pillow, breathing deeply and listening to Patrick patter around; getting out of bed for cups of tea and to wash the dishes and to feed the cat. His husband still hasn’t learned how to do nothing on a day off and the fact makes David grin good naturedly as he feels the bed dip with Patrick returning from his most recent trip.

He's sat up against the headboard, leaning close to David, a warm weight pressed against his back as he feigns sleep for a while longer.

“You’re so beautiful; aren’t you gorgeous? A gorgeous little specimen. The most handsome in all the land. How could anyone not want you?”

David grumbles a little, pretends to wake up, and opens his eyes to respond, but when he turns over to face his husband, he finds him absorbed in petting their cat's head.

“The prettiest cat in the world; look at you, they’re all fools.”

“She’ll get big headed if you keep saying things like that.”

“I have to do something to make her like me, David,” Patrick murmurs, grinning when Rose tips her head up and butts into his hand for more attention. “What are you doing anyway? I thought you'd pretend to be asleep for another half hour at least.”

David blushes and rolls his eyes, trying to act casually but Patrick catches on to him straight away.

“Did you think I was talking to you?” Patrick asks, the amused glitter in his eye annoying him to no end. “Oh, David.”

“I’m asleep,” David insists, pushing away from his husband who immediately reaches for him.

“Did you want some affection, David? Did you want me to tell you that you’re beautiful?”

“Well, I’m not told nearly enough,” David huffs, but he’s grinning as Patrick flops over him, pushing him into the mattress with their bare chests rubbing together.

“Do I not tell you that you’re gorgeous, David?” Patrick asks, kissing his shoulder and down to his arm as he talks. “That you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, and that every day I ask myself what I did to make me so lucky, to make me deserve you.”

“Something like that, yes,” David giggles as Patrick kisses his nipple and down his chest.

“Well, David. You’re perfect, and you’re gorgeous, and you’re my favourite view to wake up to,” Patrick kisses the soft skin of his stomach, hesitating just a moment to rub his nose against David’s sternum. “--and you make me feel things nobody has ever made me feel before. And I will never, never be able to say enough to make you understand how much I feel for you.”

“That’s very nice.”

Patrick gasps and bites down on David’s belly in retribution. “Nice?” he asks, “That’s very nice? That’s all you have to say to that?”

“I’ve always thought that actions speak louder than--”

_“M-ow!”_

David and Patrick go silent, looking up to each other silently for a moment.

“Okay, that’s enough of this, come on, let’s get up.”

“But, David--?” Patrick argues, as he’s bustled off of his husband and watches David heading to the closet to change.

“No funny business in front of Rose. I refuse to be the cause of any more trauma.”

“David! One of the benefits of not having kids is that we don’t have to limit ourselves, you know, se--” Patrick is cut off by David’s hand over his mouth and a shocked glare.

“Not in front of the cat!”

The tinkle of the bell from Rose’s collar alerts them to her jumping off the bed and heading out of the room. Patrick turns to David expectantly.

“Cat’s gone, David. Where do we stand now?”

Patrick is pushed back onto the mattress before he can say another word.

**2.**

It’s not until almost three months after they have adopted Rose for her to begin spending time with them of her own free will.

David and Patrick had adjusted to her disappearing into a different room as soon as they entered. She would slip out the cat flap and sit outside the back window or run away upstairs to one of the bedrooms.

She has gotten braver; she usually allows them to pet her perhaps once a day and is uncharacteristically affectionate around feeding time. They don’t push their luck, allowing her to come to them whenever she decides she wants attention, but leaving her free reign of her new home for when she doesn’t.

One morning, however, Patrick heads down to make their tea and coffee, and strangely enough, when David follows, he finds his husband standing in the kitchen pouring hot water into mugs, their cat remaining, hovering cautiously in the corner of the room.

David hesitates a while in the doorway, enjoying the sight of Patrick in their cottage kitchen. He is wearing an old blue t-shirt, worn down in the corners from overuse, and a pair of plaid blue and white pyjama bottoms. His hair is fluffed up and messy from being in bed and there are still creases on the side of his face from the pillow.

David lets out a little sigh when Patrick bends down and roots around in the cupboard under the sink, whistling casually all the while. Patrick only does that when he’s really happy, and it fills David with joy to think he might have been some contributor behind that happiness.

“I can see you hiding over there, you’re not being sneaky,” Patrick says all of a sudden, and David startles. He’s about to step fully into the room and admit defeat when Patrick continues talking. “I know you think you’re discreet, but we all know you’re secretly happy here.”

David opens his mouth, his eyebrows furrowing in upset at the idea notion that Patrick doesn’t know how happy he is here. Before he can, he spots Rose across the room just as she jumps up onto the kitchen table and makes a low purring noise.

So relieved, David can’t help but let out a small chuckle, the sound causing Patrick to spin round and smile at him bemusedly.

“Are you lurking around watching me too?” he asks, his voice rough from sleep still, and David can’t resist lumbering over and falling into his husband’s open arms, kissing him on the shoulder as he curls against his chest.

“You’re talking to the cat normally, I see.”

“Well you said I shouldn’t talk to her in the baby voice because--”

“Because she doesn’t like being patronised, correct.”

David grins as Patrick returns a kiss to his cheek, his lips soft on David’s unshaven face.

“She seems to have settled down a bit, don’t you think?” Patrick asks, gesturing across the room where Rose is sat upright on the table.

“Well, she isn’t meant to climb on the furniture, but I suppose we can iron out the hard rules another time,” David hums in response.

“She seems happy though?”

Rose has begun to lick at her back, head stretched to reach over her shoulder, periodically looking over at the two men in the kitchen as if to check they are still paying attention.

“She does seem happier.”

“Are you glad we got her?” Patrick asks, turning back to his husband with those wide, earnest eyes of his. “I know you love her, but looking back, are you glad we decided to take her?”

David dips his head, and pushes his forehead against Patrick’s.

“Are you glad you chose me?”

Patrick frowns, looking confused. “What do you mean, I didn’t choose you, David. We chose each other.”

“It’s the same thing with Rose. We chose each other. Sometimes things are just meant to be.”

The grin on Patrick's face is all the response David needs as he leans in to kiss him softly.

3.

Though Patrick has been trying to discourage it, before long, Rose the cat becomes a regular presence in the Rose marital bed.

She’s a difficult sleep partner, but no more difficult than his husband, whose flying limbs have been the cause of many of bruise in the almost year and a half that they have been married.

To her credit, Rose is very flexible when it comes to moving around the bed. She generally keeps herself to a ball at the top, sometimes on David or Patrick’s pillows, moving as the men move.

Recently, however, Rose seems to have not been sleeping well. She comes to bed with them, and wiggles under the covers next to David, her tail lashing in Patrick’s direction as if to warn him not to attempt to join the cuddle.

One evening, they head up to bed early after a long day, David pausing downstairs to let the cat know that they are heading to bed but that she is welcome to stay up as long as she likes so long as she turns the lights out on the way up. He can hear Patrick laughing from where he’s already halfway up the stairs but decides to ignore his husband’s condescension in favour of giving the cat a final little rub to the head and air kiss.

“Did you ask her to take the trash out and run the hoover round too while she’s at it?” Patrick asks as David rushes to catch up and grab at his husbands’ hips as they walk into their bedroom.

“Laugh all you want, I’m _convinced_ she’s learned how to use the light switches.”

“Does she also know English?”

“Rose and I have a connection that you will never understand.”

“Ah,” Patrick says with a chuckle, leading them into the bathroom and starting to unbutton his shirt. “So, you admit she likes you better, then?”

“That’s not true. I said we have an understanding, not that she prefers me.”

“She does though,” Patrick replies, finally peeling off his socks and stepping into the shower.

David groans in annoyance at the old conversation and starts washing his face at the sink as Patrick showers. “You’d better be using the new shampoo,” he calls as he clicks open his cleanser and listens to the water run.

Patrick’s laugh, and a murmured, “Yes, dear,” is all he gets in response but he takes it, rolling his eyes, and committing himself to the full face care regime, having neglected it slightly over the last few days in favour of getting to sleep sooner.

“All done?”

“Yeah, remember to floss before you come to bed,” David says as he finishes off his moisturiser, reaching over and dabbing the excess on his husband’s nose. “Rub that in, it’s good for you.”

Heading into the bedroom, David turns down the covers and slips into the bed, relishing in the soft and comfortable sheets as he stretches out his legs happily.

“D’you wanna leave the light on a little while to read?” Patrick asks as he emerges from the ensuite and heads to his side of the bed.

“No, I’m tired, I just want to sleep. Come here,” David replies, reaching out grabby hands until Patrick finally gives in and shuffles over to the centre of the bed.

“If I’d known that all it took was going to bed an hour early to actually get to hold my husband then I would have done it weeks ago.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, usually there is a tiny, furry little samurai separating us, with little needles on her paws and a very strong preference for--”

“Oh my God, the cat does not like me better!”

Patrick mumbles something under his breath but silences quickly after David pulls away from his grip to glare at him. The glare is long gone after a moment, replaced by a contented expression as Patrick runs his hands through the back of David’s head repetitively.

David is lulled off to sleep within moments, his head resting on his husband’s shoulder. He startles when Patrick’s voice rings out in the quiet room.

“Stop doing that,” he hisses.

David moves away from his shoulder, furrowing his eyebrow grumpily and glaring at his husband through hooded eyes.

“I didn’t do anything!” he moans, frustrated at having been pulled out of his sleep so soon.

“I wasn’t talking to you, baby, lie back down. Little Madame down there has made it her mission to move me out of the way with her _teeth_.”

David looks towards the foot of the bed and sees their black cat lying on her side, legs stretched out and periodically batting at or chewing at the lump in the duvet signifying Patrick’s feet.

“Mm, you might be right, she really does like me better,” David mumbles as Patrick pulls him back down against his chest.

“Shh, sleep now.”

“You’re my favourite though,” he continues, closing his eyes and already dropping off to sleep again.

“Mm, you’re mine too,” Patrick responds, and the last thing David feels before he falls asleep is the press of his lips to his temple.

**4.**

Rose Apothecary always has gotten far busier around the Holiday season. The various decorations and celebratory events that David plans always draw in a crowd, and with David and Patrick working opposing shifts to deal with the Christmas crowds, the two have barely had an evening to themselves in weeks.

David gets home already feeling the bubbling of a dramatic expulsion on the horizon. He takes a deep breath and unties his shoes, smiling when Rose rushes over from the living room to greet him, tangling herself up in his shoelaces and rubbing herself up against her ankles.

“Hello, you,” he says softly, letting his bad mood dissipate as he pets her soft fur. “Where is your father, dear, not avoiding me I hope?”

“Why would I be avoiding you?” Patrick asks, and David smiles up at the outline of his husband standing in the doorway.

“I don’t know, I mean, what am I supposed to think what with barely having seen you in the last few weeks.”

“Yes, well, I thought I would do something about that.”

David frowns and nods towards the kitchen. “In there?” he asks, or, his eyes travelling upstairs towards the bedroom. “Or up there?”

Patrick does his upside down, closed mouth smile and shakes his head. “Here first, there later.”

“Mm, someone is confident,” David teases, wiggling his shoulders as he steps into the circle of his husband’s arms. “Hi.”

“Hi, good day?”

“Long. Remind me to go back over dusting the floors tomorrow, the glitter from the homemade Holiday Card workshops was wide reaching, and I did not have the energy to get into all the corners before I left.”

“That’s okay, I can do it while I open.”

“What did I do to deserve you?”

Patrick pulls a teasing face and leans in to kiss David softly on the lips. “Are you ready for your surprise?”

“What is this all--” David cuts off as Patrick leads him into their open plan kitchen and living area. The large circular dining table is covered with a white silky tablecloth, their best china set out in rows while some delicious smell permeates from the kitchen. “What did you do?”

“Well, I figured that since we have had to miss date night for the last two weeks because of events at the store, it was about time I made up for it.”

“You didn’t have to--”

“I wanted to. You deserve it. You’ve been working so hard lately and picking up the slack for both of us while I’ve been overwhelmed, and I wanted to show you just a little bit of appreciation.”

“Honey, I--”

“I have a freshly cooked lasagne in the oven; my mother’s recipe, she says hi by the way--”

“--Mm, remind me I need to give her a call--”

“--And _we,_ are going to spend the evening wining and dining, and talking about anything _but_ work for the next few hours.”

“Mhm,” David hums, wiggling again as Patrick grins up at him. “And then what?”

“Well, and then I’m going to take you upstairs, and I’m going to show you just how grateful I am for all that you’ve done.”

“Okay, normally I would be _very_ excited to skip the middle ground and go straight for that option,” David says, earning a nod from Patrick. “But that lasagne smells _incredible_ and I am literally starving right now.”

_“M-ow.”_

“And Rosemary agrees.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s her dinner time too. Come on Rosie Posie let’s get you plated up before we eat.”

“I’ve told you what I think about that nickname,” David calls after him as he heads towards the oven. He makes his own way over to the dinner table, poking around the place settings with a distinctly impressed expression on his face.

“Did I do a good job?”

David looks up to find Patrick standing a few feet away with two dishes in his hands.

“Mm, wrong forks, but who am I to criticise your creativity?”

“Who indeed? You ready to eat?”

“Mm, more than anything. This smells amazing, thank you.”

They take their seats and dig in to the steaming meal, David humming in appreciation every couple of bites to make sure his husband feels appreciated. Patrick seems to have noticed that as he is chuckling lightly as they eat.

_“M-ow.”_

“Excuse me, madam, you were _just_ fed. This is for me,” David says as Rose stands off to one side, her head tilted to the side and eyes widened pleadingly, a trick she had learned from Patrick pretty early on.

David is just about to give in when Patrick reaches over the table and takes his hand, pulling it upwards and pressing a quick kiss to the back of his knuckles.

“I’m glad we’re doing this.”

“You did it--”

“No, I mean,” Patrick laughs lightly. “I just want to make sure that you know how much I appreciate you. I know we’ve been distracted lately, but I am so happy here with you, and I am so proud of the life we’ve made together, and our little family. I just wanted to take a moment and say that I am still impossibly in love with you. Possibly more than I have ever been before, and I am excited to see what comes next for us.”

David blinks away tears and sniffs, laughing as Patrick squeezes his hand and pulls a face at him across the table.

“That was mean, I’m overtired. These are tired tears.”

“Of course.”

David shakes himself from his reverie and scoops the last mouthful of lasagne into his mouth. “Is there more of this?”

“There is, there is,” Patrick says, jumping up from the table. David wiggles excitedly ready for more food, but frowns when instead of heading to the kitchen to serve up seconds, he veers over to the other side of the room.

“Why is the lasagne over there?”

Patrick gives him a bemused look as he starts flipping through their joint collection of records, flicking past the apparently unacceptable ones and tapping away until he finds the one he was looking for. “It’s not, but this is.”

Frank Sinatra’s smooth voice fills the room of their small cottage.

_Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas,_

_Let your heart be light,_

_Next year all our troubles will be out of sight._

“Shall we?” Patrick asks, standing in front of David with his hand out in a clear offering. David rolls his eyes, considering playing the role of reluctant partner, but he can’t resist the earnest brown eyes of his husband for long, and he takes his hand, letting him lead him to a little gap of space between the rooms.

David’s arms automatically sling around Patrick’s shoulders, and he feels his husband’s grip tighten on his waist as they rock slowly to the music in the low, twinkling warm light of their home.

_Here we are as in olden days,_

_Happy golden days, of yours._

_Faithful friends who are dear to us,_

_Gather near to us, once more._

“Don’t think this will stop me from wanting extra lasagne,” David says, grinning when Patrick’s eyes crinkle in the corners, a look reserved solely for him. “In fact, this technically counts as physical exercise, so I think I’ll have an even bigger portion.”

“Really? Even when I promise you dessert upstairs?”

“You made dessert?”

“No, David,” Patrick laughs, waiting for David to get it, which he does after only a moment, scowling good-naturedly. Then, his gaze is drawn downwards, and he frowns. “Stop stepping on my feet!”

“Okay, I didn’t even _want_ to dance, and I am _trying_ to be romantic, and you _know_ I can’t dance, but I am not even standing on your-- oh.”

When David finally looks down it’s to see Rose looking up at him with wide eyes, her tail wrapped around Patrick’s shin and front paws firmly placed on his left foot.

_“M-ow?”_

“Well, okay, I may have overreacted but there is no reason to look at me like that.”

“Are you talking to me or the cat?” Patrick asks, and when David looks up, he’s grinning smugly.

“That’s up to interpretation.”

“Hey, David. Here’s something that definitely won’t be left to interpretation. How about we go upstairs into our bedroom,” Patrick says, leaning forward to whisper the final words directly into David’s ear. “--and close the door behind us.”

“That was very forward of you,” David replies, but his voice betrays his true feelings. “But, I mean, I wouldn’t say no to--”

“Come on, David, up we go.”

**5.**

David’s family are difficult at the best of times, but tonight they seem to be making it their task to make his life miserable.

David is sat at his kitchen table in front of his laptop on facetime, trying to negotiate plans for their summer holiday.

“I just don’t think it’s realistic that we will be able to afford all these flights. Why can’t you come to us?” he asks, for the third time.

“Well, David, you know that we can lend you some money if you and Patrick are having money problems,” Johnny offers, as if that is any sort of solution.

“Okay, we’re not having money problems,” David’s waving hands startle the cat in his lap, who leaps from his knees while regaining her elegance and heads in the direction of the living room, where Patrick is curled up on the couch reading. David watches her go with a small pout; her warmth was calming, and he can’t help but feel deserted. “We are making plenty of money for our lifestyle. What you’re asking is for us to do something that doesn’t fit into our lifestyle.”

“Now, I don’t like the implications of that statement, Day-vid.”

“I don’t want a loan for a trip that based on all logical thought we should not be taking! We are already taking a week out to see Alexis in New York. Now, you can come and see us while we are there, or you can come back to Schitt’s Creek, but we are not travelling out to LA and spending even more money that we don’t have to see the inside of your condo.”

“So, you don’t wish to come and see your own parents?” Moira asks. “We lived in squalor to raise you and now that we have the slightest vestige of comfort you desert us and make baseless accusations such as this?”

“Okay, ‘raising us in squalor’ is a stretch. We were in our thirties when we lost the money. You only want us to come to you so that you can carry on working, which means we would hardly even see you, and no offense but LA is not our first choice of holiday destination.”

“A holiday could be good, David. You know, get some of that stress off from work.”

“What did I _just_ say. I’ve given you my options, you can pick one and get back to us, or we’ll see you later in the year at thanksgiving.”

His parents look disappointed but don’t argue when he hangs up the phone and puts his head in his hands.

“It’s like they’re _trying_ to make my life more difficult,” he groans.

“I know that it’s not what you want to hear right now, but have you considered that this might be your parents’ convoluted way of showing you that they want to see you, and that they miss you.”

“They have no consideration of _my_ responsibilities, though! Like, I know everyone sees you as the responsible one and me as the flighty one but I can’t just leave the store for another week, not when we’re already going to New York the week before, and there is _no_ way I’m going anywhere for a week without you.”

“I know and you don’t have to. But your Mom probably has a film schedule she has to keep to, and she’s just upset that she won’t see you.”

“I know, you’re right, I just, they keep dismissing everything I have here- the family that I have _here._ ”

Patrick makes a face and lets David stew in silence for a moment before speaking again.

“Come and sit here, baby,” Patrick says, tapping his lap.

David nods and stands up from his seat at the table, heading over only to see Patrick isn’t looking at him, and is instead gesturing for Rose to join him on the couch, whose expression suggests she would rather do anything else.

“Oh, sorry, David,” Patrick says, once he notices he has stood up. “See, this is what happens why you stop me from using my baby voice with her.”

“Mm, it’s fine,” David replies, waving a hand and heading back to the table.

“Hey, David? Do _you_ wanna come and sit on my lap?” Patrick asks, and when David turns around to glare at him he finds his husband pouting at him condescendingly. “Does baby wanna cuddle? Who wants a cuddle? Come here--”

He reaches out his hands in a grabby motion and David finds himself biting down on his lips to stop himself from smiling.

“Come on oochie poochie, come and give me a cuddle.”

David rolls his eyes and stands up, walking into his husbands’ arms and settling down on his lap. “Okay, there is really no need for that.”

“Mm, but I think you like it don’t you, baby?” Patrick asks, rocking back and forth just slightly. “You said I couldn’t use the baby voice on Rose, you never said I couldn’t use it on you.”

I’m not enjoying this,” David grumbles.

“Then why are you still here?”

“Ugh, because you’re comfortable and I’m tired, sit still,” David whines, pushing at Patrick until he is leaned fully back against the sofa, and curling up further into his arms.

He’s just about to get up and move on when Rose’s bell draws his attention, and he turns his head towards her just as she is jumping up onto David’s lap.

Patrick makes an offended noise over his shoulder as David makes room for her, digging his knee into Patrick’s leg as he does so as retribution for his teasing.

“Why doesn’t she come when I ask her to come.”

“She doesn’t like to do what she’s told. Just like her daddy.”

“I assume you’re talking about me, right?” Patrick asks. “Because from my experience, you seem to very much enjoy doing what I tell you do.”

“I resent that accusation.”

Patrick gestures down at where David is still perched over his legs, his arms swung around Patrick’s shoulders and cuddled up to his chest.

“This was a decision that I made, of my own free will.”

“Sure it was, David.”

**+1.**

It’s a cozy evening in the cottage; David is curled up on the couch, the tv queued up to play the next episode of the murder mystery he and his husband have been watching, and he can hear said husband tinkering around in the draws searching for the bottle opener to open a fresh bottle of wine.

Rose is curled up on the cushion next to him, her black fur tufted up, and David reaches out a lazy hand to stroke it back into place, smiling when all he gets in response is the rumbling of a purr from the lump of fluff.

 _“Oh for God’s sake, I can’t believe you’ve been eating from the garbage again!”_ Patrick’s voice rings out from the kitchen and David smirks, looking down at the cat, whose head has popped up curiously in response to the noise.

“Someone’s in trouble,” David sing songs softly to her, causing her to turn and look at him with disdain. “Somebody has been a naughty kitty and is gonna get told off.”

“David, I binned this yesterday, what is it doing on the countertop-- and half eaten!”

“Me?”

“Yes, David, you. Who else would I be talking to?”

David looks up guiltily at his husband as he holds out a white take-out box from the café; one which had previously held some very misshapen mozzarella sticks but now contained several halves of some mozzarella sticks. He glances down at Rose who looks up with him evenly, offering no escape from the blame.

“Um, I got hungry?”

“And there was something wrong with the other food that was in our fridge and in our cupboards? Something that stopped you from eating that?”

“I just, once I’d got it in my head, I wanted Mozzarella sticks!”

“David! They were in the bin for a reason!”

“Just because a food is ugly doesn’t mean it’s not good.”

Patrick lets out a huffed laugh, rolling his eyes and heading back to the kitchen. “And were they good?” he calls from the counter as he starts screwing the bottle opener into a fresh bottle.

David hums happily as he is distracted by Patrick’s muscle clenching with the effort.

“David?”

“Hm? What? Oh, no, actually, they gave me a stomach-ache.”

Patrick goes silent for a while, and David assumes the conversation is dropped, returning to his phone where he is having a conversation with Stevie about plans for the weekend.

Patrick returns to the couch, setting down their wine glasses on the coffee table and slipping himself between David and Rose, an arm around his husband as they settle down to watch their show.

“Do you want me to rub your belly?” Patrick asks as the credits roll.

“She doesn’t like it when you do that, she’ll bite your hand off,” David murmurs, snuggling closer.

“Not-- I wasn’t talking to the cat, David, I was talking to you.”

“Oh,” David replies, blinking in surprise. “Um, then yes, I do like that.”

Patrick’s eyes are twinkling with laughter when he looks up to face him, but David ignores the humour and instead kisses him quick on the lips.

They settle down together; David leaning back against Patrick’s front, and the show starts. Before long they are interrupted by a low rumble, and Rose stands up. She clambers over Patrick’s arms to his hands, which are slowly rubbing David’s stomach, half ironically, half in the hope of actually helping.

Rose settles herself on David’s lap and puts her paws on his stomach, knocking Patrick’s hands out of the way in the process. She curls up, a mini heat pad of warmth and starts kneading her front feet into the fabric of David’s sweater, her sharp little claws getting stuck every so often on the fabric of his sweater.

“David is she--”

David feels Patrick’s chest vibrating with a laugh and can’t help but join in as Rose continues to make her biscuits on him.

“And they said she was a difficult cat,” Patrick mutters, reaching out to pet her head, which she accepts happily.

“Most people are when they aren’t shown any love, I think,” David replies softly, earning a gentle kiss to the crown of his head.

“Lucky we had some extra to share then, huh?”

“Yeah, lucky,” David replies, swallowing the lump in his throat and leaning his head against his husband, utterly and completely surrounded by love.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the weirdest concept i might have ever come up with but i wanted more domestic scenes of David and Patrick with their cat and their cottage! Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you thought ! 🐱


End file.
